


Lo-lee-ta

by pearypie



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Corruption, Lust, M/M, Seduction, Temptation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 05:51:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8699728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearypie/pseuds/pearypie
Summary: Demons are such lustful creatures, aren't they? (But emotions make for a terribly wretched experience - particularly the unambiguous ones of adoration and devotion.) Ciel and Sebastian and the marble bath. (Not necessarily in that order.)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheSightlessSniper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSightlessSniper/gifts).



Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita.

— Vladimir Nabokov, _Lolita_

 

* * *

 

Sebastian Michaelis did not find anything particularly astounding about his current master. Petite, frail, moon skin pale with a sapphire in one eye and an amethyst in the other. He was irritable but highly intelligent; prone to tantrums but deviously manipulative. To Sebastian, his young master personified the game he loved best—a chess player who, by the clever handling of his pieces, saw the game through to the only end that mattered.

It was delicious and achingly beautiful. This young lord had corrupted the childhood innocence of games and chance, turning these two pastimes into a fixation of fatal, macabre death. It was what he employed as both executive of Funtom and as the Queen’s Watchdog. The demon himself witnessed his master taint, with feather quill’d solemnity, the purity of forcefully abandoned youth.

He was now a walking paradox—a porcelain doll of extreme affliction—who carried the burdens of cognizance and ambition, two poisons whose taste was so potent that, once consumed, could never revert back to the happiness of simple contentment.

His master was, in effect, his sin, soul, and desire. Through the earl, Sebastian suckled the milk of life, one made bitter as wormwood and as terrible as the waking storm. He stood on the genevan shores of fragile paradise, observing his conquest with watchful eyes and an alert ear. He so loved the earl’s perception.

He so loved everything about him.

 

* * *

  

Lavender oil was not a scent Sebastian associated with his master but, after an excruciating day of show and dressage, the lord’s limbs were sore and he had to be carried to his bedchamber.

Ciel’s smile had been a vicious, brutal thing; full of childish venom and unsuppressed hate as he wrapped one arm around Sebastian’s neck. The butler held his lord and master as a groom would his newly made bride, one arm under his shoulders, the other cradling his thighs.

What a spoiled, shrewish thing.

In the bath went lavender oil, essence of blackberry, a touch of rosemary, and the prized, clean hot water, filtered in through bronze pipes, bubbling with innovation and the blood of those who died building them. His little lord sat with disdainful elegance in his violet-blue parlor, situated on a high-backed wing chair of sapphire velvet, reading the evening paper. 

“My lord.” He bowed and his master ignored him, preferring to grant his butler a simple wave of acknowledgement before Sebastian took him into his arms. The child was lightweight and smelled of crushed pearls and white marble—the same marble that lined his floor, basin, and bath. White as angel’s clouds.

With a chandelier of gilt and glimmering gold dangling overhead, the bathing chamber became an illuminated hall of hallowed beauty, shimmering gold and white. On the pale rose chaise Sebastian undressed his employer, removing layer after layer of ruff, collar, and silk until every inch of his ivory skin was exposed, sweet smelling as pale honeydew.

“Make this quick.” Ciel commanded, folding his paper at long last. “I must rise early tomorrow morning.”

Sebastian bowed and lifted his master into the bath, gently lowering him into the perfumed water, hazy like a blurred summer sky dusted with lavender petals. “Indeed. Lady Vivian Darkbloom—a most peculiar moniker.”

The blue haired earl gave a soft hiss of pleasure as the waters soaked his frail, tired limbs. Tilting his head back, Ciel closed both his eyes before speaking: “I’ve little interest in her name. It’s her production line I want. Either way,” he opened one sapphire eye, “it doesn’t matter. Vivian Darkbloom. It’s a poor pseudonym.” The young earl decided as Sebastian watched him open his other eye. The violet pentagon gave a glow that penetrated through the gauzy steam of the now humid bath chamber.

With lazy indulgence, his master slid one leg towards him while Sebastian looked on, observing the apple-white knee that broke through the surface. Ciel drew it towards his chest before letting one wrist fall on top, fingers barely grazing the lavender scented water. Two fingers stroked the water with slow, methodical precision, dipping a little deeper each time.

“My lord?”

“Hm?”

“May I break solidarity and ask you a question that’s rather… _impertinent_ in nature?”

His languid stroking ceased and, with hovering mistrust, Ciel shifted himself to the other corner of the bath, thus facing Sebastian. “What inquiry could be so bold that a _demon_ must request permission to ask it?”

With carnelian eyes aglow, Sebastian chuckled with light animosity, lips curled in a cynical half-smile of indulgent humor. “I ask as your butler, my lord. Your servant who wishes only to please you.”

“Then ask.” His impatient lordling sighed, a blank expression of annoyance falling across his face. “Ask and let me be. I’ve grown tired of your presence.”

“Very well.” Sebastian walked close, close—and closer still, until he was an inch away from where Ciel sat, steam and lavender surrounding him like moonlight. Bending down, Sebastian ensured they were face to face.

“What are you—“

“Have you ever been kissed my lord? Have you ever had another’s lips pressed against the head of your cock and then, further still?”

Sebastian watched as the earl’s eyes widened, watched while his pale pink lips opened with shock; Ciel stared into his eyes for half a second more before turning away. Blinking furiously, a myriad of emotions—fury, embarrassment, surprise—fell across his countenance.

“My lord?” Sebastian smirked, a hint of devious delight appearing on his falsely beautiful face. “Have you no answer to give me?”

“Get away from me.”

“I’m afraid duty and devotion prevent me from committing such an act. My lord,” Sebastian knelt down, “I have always strived to reach your exacting standards, to bring you satisfaction no matter how difficult the task. Now, if you would…” With one smooth motion, the butler brought his hand under his master’s chin, tilting it towards him with graceful dignity.

The kiss, then, was delivered with cool recklessness—Sebastian’s lips pressed against Ciel’s mouth with soft but mounting pressure. His fine black suit grew damp as he leaned closer, allowing lavender water to soak through while his master’s lips parted, while he sighed and flinched but was then brought back, fingers coming to press against Sebastian’s shoulders.

When the butler leaned back, the earl came forward, rising to his knees as he demanded one kiss more. 

He had but a fleeting glimpse of Ciel’s nymph-like form before small hands clutched at the lapels of his suit jacket. Ciel arched his back and leaned into Sebastian, suddenly curious at what else he could extract from his ever dutiful servant. He liked the way Sebastian’s lips felt, how his breath was warm against his cheek. He liked the firmness of his body and the reassuring promise of this fiendish demon's touch.

Yet with the earl, Sebastian delighted in everything as he began to feel Ciel’s body take on a rocking motion—it was subtle but eager and beyond the veil of Sebastian’s control. Rose and gold dusted, his master cried for _more_ in that breathy, unsure voice of his.

And Sebastian, who had never before denied the earl’s command, smiled patiently.

“ _Yes,_ my lord.”

 

* * *

 

And whispered against the velvet night, the earl took in his butler. His nymphet body spread naked against the violet sheets, his thighs trembling, the earl took _Sebastian_ in and cried for more. Young hands gripped at the unmarred back, buckling forth in a strange, sensuous mix of wanton delight and punishing desire.

The devil took his due and the earl paid with ready sighs.

**Author's Note:**

> \- Psst, anagram time! Can anyone guess who “Vivian Darkbloom” is? First one to guess it right gets to pick a one-shot pairing ;) 
> 
> A/N: Dedicated to TheSightlessSniper—thank you for all the sweet reviews, dearie ♡


End file.
